


a cleft foot dancing inside your circle

by turnip (calculus)



Series: and a wide realm of wild reality [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Contracts, Crack, Demon Summoning, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 10:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13995888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calculus/pseuds/turnip
Summary: You don't make deals with the devil for a reason.





	a cleft foot dancing inside your circle

**Author's Note:**

> the cc ask said write smth self-indulgent??? so????

They sit in silence on Soonyoung's couch, an enforced distance between them after the third time Soonyoung had to grapple with Wonwoo's wandering hands, with the demon staring balefully at Soonyoung from his perch, wrapped in Soonyoung's threadbare towel. Wonwoo shifts, lifting a thigh, and the towel slips from his shoulders, unveiling miles of skin, intricately tattooed and so, so, _so_ naked, and Soonyoung immediately snaps his head in the other direction, brilliantly red.

"So, about the contract—"

"Please."

"Well, I'm just trying to do my job," Wonwoo grumbles, hitching back up the towel. "You're the one who summoned me here in the first place."

Summoned.

Soonyoung exhales a pained laugh, dropping his face into his upturned palms. _Summoned._ He sneaks another glance between his fingers at Wonwoo, blissfully unaware and examining the fabric of the only thing keeping his modesty.

If not for the spiraling horns blooming out the sides of Wonwoo's head, nothing about him would scream anything other than human; the tattoos, granted, intricate as they are, would probably only mark him as a part of the geondal, though that would've already been enough to send Soonyoung running for the police.

But, even if he did manage to ignore the fucking horns, Soonyoung can't really reason away the gigantic summoning circle that's been literally branded into his living room floor not even a meter away from the couch. Just thinking about it makes him want to start crying—his goddamn deposit, for fuck's sake.

A pinched whine escapes his lips, drawing Wonwoo's attention back to him, and Soonyoung shrinks away from the black-eyed gaze. Literally. Pupil-less and infinitely black, Wonwoo's eyes are lifted straight from Soonyoung's worst nightmares, and he won't stop staring.

"So."

"Nngh."

"Have you calmed down finally? Can we discuss our terms now?" Wonwoo asks, brisk and efficient, like he's not sitting completely naked under a thin towel in a stranger's apartment. Soonyoung grunts. "Great! So, as I've said earlier, as per your offering—"

“ _Oh my fucking god._ ”

"—of your bodily fluids, you have now contracted my services for the duration of a fortnight—"

"Who fucking says fortnight anymore?"

"—and as such, you may command me to do your bidding in any capacity." Wonwoo grins suddenly, sharp and sly, and Soonyoung shivers violently. "My powers are not infinite, of course, and must be recharged regularly."

"....How do you mean," Soonyoung bites out. He has such a bad feeling about this.

"I require energy, just like any other being, is all," says Wonwoo, tilting his head coyly. Soonyoung eyes him, leaning his head back as subtly as he can.

"So I need to feed you, right? Do you take ramyeon as payment?" Soonyoung hedges, swallowing heavily. Within a blink, the space between is encroached, Wonwoo looming over him with a cat-like smile, heat from his body like collapsing star, burning everything within reach.

"No, my dear master, I'm afraid beings of my kind need something a little more filling than that," he purrs, dipping his head in closer. Soonyoung holds his breath, feels his heart thumping against his ribcage with each passing second, and the room is possibly on fire with how hot he is right now.

"W-what do you need?" Soonyoung croaks out, throat tight and dry. Wonwoo's mouth stretches slow and slick, the curl of a pink tongue flirting over the corners, and the space between them tightens faster and faster. The air thickens, and Soonyoung's lashes flutter as his body melts into the cushions, Wonwoo closer, closer, closer—

“ _Sex_ ,” he breathes over Soonyoung's lips, and takes.

**Author's Note:**

> i may or may not come back to this


End file.
